


essence of night

by graveExcitement



Series: Rigel Black and Vampirism [2]
Category: Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter
Genre: Character Study, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Gen, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27556870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graveExcitement/pseuds/graveExcitement
Summary: After the attack on the Lamia Lodge, Kasten is stymied in his attempts to identify the substance that poisoned his coven's second, Gavril. A familiar human comes along to offer her assistance.
Relationships: Kasten & Harriet Potter | Rigel Black
Series: Rigel Black and Vampirism [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068221
Comments: 28
Kudos: 103
Collections: Rigel Black Chronicles Appreciation, Rigel Black Exchange Round 2





	essence of night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beelzebubble_tea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beelzebubble_tea/gifts).



> Fanfiction of murkybluematter's Rigel Black Chronicles.

He was fifty years into his unlife, and Kasten still didn't know why Grandfather had chosen him. Of all his siblings, he was not the most charismatic (his eldest brother), nor the most talented (his youngest sister). He was not even the only studious one of the lot, nor did he perform the best academically, not like his eldest sister. The one trait he could lay claim to was bloody single-mindedness, the drive that had kept him working on his studies of essences for a decade before he had been turned.

Perhaps that was why, he mused. Vampires lived long lives, longer than he had truly grappled with as a so-called "Newborn" (gods, but that title grated on him.) Perhaps Count Aurel had evaluated him and thought: "this one is patient. This one will not despair at the thought of centuries, millennia even, of unlife." There were worse things to be singled out for than patience.

It could be his pursuit of essences that had intrigued Grandfather, though he certainly didn't display much interest in them now. But perhaps, like the patrons of old, he had decided Kasten's studies were too valuable to be left to the whims and short lifespan of a human, and chose to preserve them, even if he did not fully understand them himself. He had never pressured Kasten to continue his studies for decades on end, but perhaps he had known he wouldn't need to.

This was all speculation, because Kasten's genteel Grandfather had never explained his choice.

 _His_ choice. It hadn’t been Kasten’s. It was a gift, after all, and you couldn’t reject a gift. Not that he was unhappy, or ungrateful, but it would be misleading to say he’d had a choice in the matter.

But if he ruminated on that for too long he was liable to fall into a bitter mood. He had his purpose, and would be able to pursue it for far longer than he could ever have dreamed of, had he stayed human. The other Shrouds didn’t understand his passion, but they didn’t need to. They largely left him alone to refine and extract and brew and distill, and that was all he could ask for. Perhaps, in another few decades, they might even stop calling him Newborn; or maybe they would do so for as long as he remained the youngest member of the clan. 

A soft knock on the door broke him from his musings. “Enter,” he called, and the door opened. Inside peeked a girl with a candle, which would have told him she was human if he couldn’t already tell from her scent. It was the one who had been interested in essences; a rare trait indeed. He didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so astonished to behold his collection, and she’d returned even when not on business for the Rogue. Harry, that was her name.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said.

He shook his head; he’d let his thoughts wander for quite some time before her arrival. “You’re needing another essence, I presume?”

“Actually, no,” she admitted. “I came to the Lamia to find out how you all were doing. Leo wrote to me about the attack, but I was away at school until now. Were you hurt? Was your collection damaged?” She peered around the room.

“No,” said Kasten. “Count Aurel bid me to stay out of the fighting, for I am but a Newborn —” he rolled his eyes — “and have very little combat experience. The fires did not reach down here, thankfully.”

The attack had come with no warning. Kasten did not have a head for politics, nor for the careful dance between the Shrouds and their rival clan, but even he knew that there should have been signs; insults, deterioration in their covens’ tense relationship. Instead, they had been completely blindsided.

“That’s a relief,” said Harry. “Leo mentioned you lost some members, but he didn’t say who, so I worried… well.”

He stared at her for a moment, turning over her words in his mind, before he finally realized that she was expressing worry about _him._ What a strange human. “As you can see, I’m fine,” he said. “Gavril is still weakened, however.”

“Still?” she said. “Do they still not know what he’s been poisoned with, or do they know but are unable to cure it?”

He shook his head. “I have been unable to identify it,” he said. That had been a blow to his pride; worse, it meant he couldn’t help in the one area he by all rights should have been able to help in. He’d found it difficult to get any real work done since, frustrated with his lack of progress. “Based on the symptoms, there are a few poisons it could be, but none of them should be able to affect a vampire in this way.”

Harry hummed in thought. “Then either it’s an unknown poison that can affect vampires, or it’s a known poison that’s been altered to do so.”

“Indeed. Count Aurel says he has never encountered anything like this in his many years of unlife, so the latter explanation seems more likely.”

She nodded, frowning. After a moment, she set the candle down on a nearby table and began to pace, though she didn’t stray too far from the light. “Maybe,” she mused, “it’s like Wolfsbane.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the new Wolfsbane is so potent because Master Snape discovered that if you harvest certain ingredients at specific times in the lunar cycle, they have a stronger effect on the werewolf’s transformation. Maybe this is similar — ingredients harvested at, I don’t know, dawn or high noon or something, to enhance their effectiveness against vampires.”

“Fascinating,” said Kasten, stepping over to his essence library and trailing a finger along one of the poison shelves. Could that be the answer? It didn’t seem like it should be enough to have had such a serious and long-lasting effect, but it was an avenue he had yet to explore, and that invigorated him. He looked back at Harry and tilted his head, considering. What an odd human, to hold so much care in her heart for vampires. At her age, he was sure he would have only been afraid. “Would you lend me your assistance in this matter?”

Her eyes lit up. “Of course! Gavril’s a friend, sort of. I also have some Healer training, so I could take a look myself, though if you’ve already taken him to the clinic and Mrs. Hurst couldn’t flush out the poison, I suppose it’s a bit arrogant to think I might be able to.”

“I believe his lack of heartbeat caused some difficulty in that endeavour,” Kasten said dryly.

She frowned. “Right, I suppose that would cause issues. Though I wonder…” She began muttering to herself, and Kasten watched, feeling a flicker of fondness in his heart. She was a strange human, he decided, but a good one. She would make a good vampire, too — but he was in no position to make such suggestions. In another decade or two, maybe. 

Vampire or not, she was a good friend.


End file.
